Compliance
by LittleApril
Summary: Everyone has a choice to make. Emily Rawlings just wishes she'd been allowed to make her own without HYDRA's influence. Bucky/OC


**Compliance by Little April**

 **Prologue**  


 _"The decisions you make are a choice of values that reflect your life in every way." ~ Alice Waters_

12th November 2009

"Where _are_ you? It's Friday! And please, for the love of everything, don't tell me you're _still_ at school. Call me back. Love you."

Slipping her arms into the sleeves of her winter jacket, Emily Rawlings rolled her eyes at the message playing from the answer phone. She flicked off the light to the small workspace, sliding her identification card through the scanner and nodding in satisfaction as the door to the office beeped open with the signature green light of acceptance. Her black patent heels clicked along the linoleum flooring, her path toward the exit lit up by the overhanging fluorescent strip of lights. It was 11.47pm on a Friday night and the majority of the university think tank building was deserted. Emily could hear the faint telltale sounds of late-night bodies working away in the labs, hear the whirrs of the heavy machinery and the steady thumps of the security system forever in place.

Unclipping her hair from its knot, the twenty-two-year-old student shook her hair loose, watching it fall to the middle of her back as she caught sight of her reflection in the reflective walls of the corridor.

11.52pm and she was late to her own birthday party.

A vibration tugged her from her thoughts. Groping for her cell phone from the pocket of her coat, Emily hit the 'answer call' button. "Hello?"

"Where the hell are you? Do I need to send a search party? Are you lying in a ditch somewhere? An alleyway-?"

"Sarah," sighed Emily, a smile playing on her lips at her friend's voice. She pushed past the double doors leading to the main foyer of the building. "I'm on my way. I'm leaving the lab now-"

"Seriously?"

"Science never sleeps," quipped the birthday girl, striding toward the exit. She placed her identification on the scanner and threw a quick smile to the overnight doorman. "My thesis is due in six days, OK? I need the late nights. I'm leaving now though," she promised. "Don't tell me I missed the cake-"

"No," said Sarah, sounding more and more irritable with each passing second. Her voice grumbled down the line. "But you did miss the male strippers and-"

Emily smirked, hurrying down the steps toward the sidewalk. "If I'd have known there were strippers, I'd have clocked out early," she joked, holding her arm out to hail a cab from the steady flow of Washington traffic. "There is cake, right?"

"Triple chocolate, coffee and vanilla," agreed Sarah, her voice muffled by the noise of the party anthems playing in the background. "Everyone is here and waiting for you. _Chris_ even turned up."

Now it was Emily's turn to frown. "You're kidding?" she asked, still holding out her arm. "We broke up two months ago. Why would he even bother?"

"He bought a present-"

"Don't care," said Emily, her voice strict. "Throw it out with the trash. Speaking of trash, please tell me he didn't stay?"

Sarah sniffed down the phone. "You really think I'd let that bastard stay? I told the barman I saw him slip something in a girl's drink. He was thrown out in minutes. Happy Birthday?"

Before Emily could respond to her friend's act of heroism, the crunch of tyres against asphalt caught her attention. Sighing in relief at the sight of the yellow taxi, she balanced her phone between her ear and shoulder and pulled the door open. "On my way," she promised, "I'll call you back." Letting the phone fall into her hand, she slid into the seat of the taxi and blinked in surprise at the sight of the suit-clad man before her. Instinctively, she clutched her purse to her chest and inched back toward the door, not wanting to share a cab so late at night even if she was late to her own party.

It was man's hand on her arm and his voice which stopped her from moving. "It's OK, Miss Rawlings," said the man, teeth gleaming against his dark skin. Emily flinched and whipped her head back to the right to stare at the man, dark amber widening at the sight of the pistol pointed at her chest. The man smiled. "We just want to talk."


End file.
